September Love Read online

  On Thursday evening Beth could hear clear into the kitchen that Doug and Kayla were having an argument in the bed-sitter. She went as far as the front hall. They had three guests, but thankfully they were all out for an evening. She paused there uncertainly. Should she go in? Or not? Then she realized Adam was sitting in the corner of the hallway behind the desk, struggling with something. She went to lean over the desk and look at him. She thought he was hiccuping and then realized he was crying. He was struggling to put on one of the new red high-topped shoes. His little fingers were fumbling uselessly with the laces. Lacing up high shoes was beyond him. She knelt down before him.

  “Adam, can I help?”

  “Adam good boy,” he said, still working desperately with the tangled laces. “Adam good. Adam okay.”

  “Here, let me,” she said gently. He had on just his small cotton briefs. Apparently Kayla had been getting him ready for bed when the quarrel with Doug started. What was it like to be three years old and not understand what the big, angry people were shouting about? And like children everywhere, had he assumed that it was somehow his fault? What bad thing had he done to make it happen? He had refused to wear the red high-topped shoes. So now he was doing his three-year-old best to make things right again.

  Willing herself not to fling open the bed-sitter door and give both Kayla and Doug a piece of her mind, and willing herself not to cry, she calmly took Adam’s small hands from the laces, untangling them and then lacing up the shoes, talking gently to him all the while.

  “Of course you are a good boy. I was just saying today that I didn’t know any little boy as good as Adam. And I’ll tell you what. I forgot to get some fresh flowers from the garden for the breakfast table. Can you imagine that? Forgetting to get fresh flowers? But it’s still fairly light outside and I’m just going out now to get some. Will you come with me? I need someone to hold the basket.”

  He looked up at her with his wide, wet, blue eyes. “Yes,” he said. “I c’n help. Adam c’n help.”

  “Good,” she said briskly, ignoring the angry words coming from the bed-sitter.

  “You said you’d call AA! Have you done it yet?”

  “Okay! I’ll call them! Are you satisfied?”

  Beth picked Adam up and took him toward the back of the house, trying not to hurry. Let them fight it out. Adam didn’t need to hear it. She reached the back service porch and, with one quick motion, took the flat basket from the shelf, pushed open the door and was down the back steps before she realized she was holding her breath. She let it out with a sigh, and put Adam down.

  “Now, you take this basket.” She really should have put Adam’s pants and T-shirt on, but it was a warm spring evening and the backyard was empty. If anybody was looking out any window, well let them. They would see Mrs. Colby picking a lovely array of early daffodils with her small grandson assisting by holding the basket, wearing only his cotton briefs and red high-topped shoes.

  It was almost dark when Beth thought she had enough flowers. When she went to the back door the house seemed eerily silent. Was it safe to go back in yet?

  Doug answered for her by coming out the back door.

  “Oh, there you are,” he said. “I was wondering—” He stopped because he saw Adam following her around the corner of the house carrying the flat flower basket full of daffodils.

  “Don’t say a word,” Beth said through her teeth, and had the satisfaction of seeing Doug shut his mouth and come quietly down the steps.

  Adam, quite happy now, held out the basket. “Adam helping,” he said proudly.

  “Well, you certainly are,” Doug said heartily. “Good for you. Can I give you a hand with that?”

  “Nope. Adam do it.”

  So Doug stepped back and let Adam struggle up the steps, the flower basket tilting dangerously. But he made it onto the service porch.

  “Thank you, Adam,” Beth said, reaching for the basket, which Adam graciously let her take.

  She couldn’t talk to Doug until Adam, sitting on the high kitchen stool, had watched her arrange the dining room flowers and refresh himself with a cookie and a cup of milk. Then he decided that, yes, he was ready for bed.

  “Is Kayla in bed?” Beth asked Doug, keeping her tone remote and cool. She could see Doug trying not to smile as he answered.

  “Probably not this early, but she’s in the bed-sitter. My daughter and I had a little discussion.”

  “We heard,” Beth said coldly.

  “And when I left her, we had reached a decision. Shall I take Adam in?”

  “I’ll take Adam in,” Beth said, still cool. “Okay, Adam, let’s go now.” She picked him up from the stool and took him into the bed-sitter.

  Kayla was sitting on the window seat in the semi-dark room. She hadn’t bothered to put on the light.

  “Adam’s ready for bed, Kayla.”

  “Oh? Yeah. Thanks,” Kayla said absently. Her eyes looked puffy so she must have cried at some point.

  “I’ll help you put the sofa bed down,” Beth offered, and together they unfolded it.

  “We got flowers,” Adam said in his piping voice.

  “Did you? That’s nice,” Kayla said vaguely. “Come on, then. Time for you to hit the sack.”

  “Big shoes,” Adam said, calling her attention to the high-tops. “Put on big shoes.”

  “Great. You’re a good boy.” Kayla’s voice was listless but it satisfied Adam. His little world was right again.

  Sighing softly, Beth kissed Kayla and Adam good-night and went out, closing the door softly behind her. Where was this all going to end?

  Back in the kitchen Doug was working away at the breakfast preparations, and she found she wasn’t angry at him now. Cutting the flowers, she had rehearsed a really excellent commentary on protecting vulnerable little children from the anger of adults who couldn’t control themselves. She had fully intended to hurl it at him. Now it seemed a waste of time. She sat down at the kitchen table, enjoying, as usual, the sight of his big gentle hands working so deftly.

  “Thanks for starting the breakfast work.”

  He turned. “Why do I think that’s not what you had in mind to tell me?” He was looking at her quizzically and she couldn’t help but smile and reach out. He came to her in one stride and took her in his arms.

  Later, when they had gone upstairs, she spoke to him about Pastor Cooper. “I think when the pastor comes Sunday, we should talk to him. I’m really at sea with Kayla. I don’t actually know what to do—how best to help. Maybe I’m doing the wrong thing, with the best of intentions.”

  “I agree,” he said soberly. “I’m not sure what I’m doing, either. Always before, when Kayla was in trouble, I concentrated on being elsewhere. I pinned her down tonight—right or wrong—and told her if she was going to try AA she’d have to start. If she’s going back into the rehab center, it has to be within a thirty-day period from the time she walked out. I guess I kind of laid it on the line. I’m sorry but I forgot about Adam. Where was he?”

  “He was in the hall. He must have heard part of the row and got upset.” She let it rest there—no point in making him feel worse.

  Friday went well. Kayla was quiet and unsmiling, but she helped diligently. She was obviously very troubled. One guest left and two others arrived. Beth hoped the roof patch would hold as they had a full house through the weekend. The forecast was for continued fair weather, but a storm front was moving in Tuesday. In Seattle one never knew. As old-time Seattleites said, “If you don’t like this weather, wait a few minutes.”

  Beth didn’t think to tell Kayla that Pastor Cooper would have dinner with them Sunday until about noon on Saturday. She was astonished at Kayla’s reaction.

  “Oh, no, not the preacher! Beth, no offense, but I’m just not into organized religion. I’ll have to sit this one out. As I recall he’s a very attractive guy. Probably very full of himself.”

  The three were in the backyard. It was a lovely day. Doug had finished the Shilshole Bay
painting and was framing it in the basement workshop. They were sitting around the round white table under the faded blue umbrella. One good thing had come of Doug’s quarrel with Kayla. Adam was dutifully wearing his red high-topped sneakers now without argument.

  “Well, he’s not coming to preach,” Beth said, laughing. “He’s just coming to dinner. Yes, I agree he’s quite good-looking.”

  “Yeah. I like that tall, lanky kind of guy, but wow. I don’t know, Beth. If only he wasn’t a preacher.” She shook her head. “Dad’s been on my back about calling AA,” she added, changing the subject.

  And before Beth could stop herself she said, “Maybe you should.”

  “The point,” Kayla said, “is that I did. I already talked to this guy, a very nice guy, and he told me all about it in detail. I didn’t really know a lot, see? I just had heard that people going through the program could stop drinking. But I—” She looked off into the distance.

  “Have you told Doug this?”

  “No. Not yet. I haven’t had the guts. Beth, it’s like this. AA is all wound up with religion. I’m just not into religion. This nice guy says I don’t have to be into religion myself. AA can help me even if I’m not, but—” She paused a long time. “There’s so much to it.”

  “What do you mean, so much to it?” Beth asked, but Kayla shook her head warningly. Beth heard Doug coming so she didn’t pursue it.

  For the rest of the day she kept thinking she should talk to Doug about it, but couldn’t decide. Somehow or other she would ask Pastor Cooper on Sunday evening. Maybe Kayla would feel differently about it when she had had a social evening with him.

  But Sunday after church, she and Doug found to their dismay that Kayla wasn’t home. The big house was empty. Beth tried to quell her panic. Adam, where are you, dear child? Then she heard Doug’s grim voice from the kitchen.

  “She left a note on the fridge.”

  Beth ran into the kitchen. “What does it say? Where have they gone? I was afraid of this!”

  “She’ll be back—she hasn’t gone for good,” Doug assured her quickly, taking the note from the refrigerator door. Beth could see it was a half sheet of house stationery with scrawly writing.

  “She wrote, ‘Dear Beth and Dad—Cold sober I can’t take an evening with the preacher so Adam and I are eating out. Will be back later. Love, Kayla.”’

  Beth felt a surge of relief that Kayla had sense enough to avoid an evening with Flip Cooper since she found him attractive. Getting involved with a clergyman offered pressure that Kayla didn’t need and couldn’t handle.

  “Does she have any money?” Beth asked.

  “Apparently. I gave her some pocket money when she went into rehab. I guess she still has it. I hope she doesn’t decide to drink her dinner.” He handed the note to Beth.

  “Well, she wouldn’t do that,” Beth said. “She says she’s cold sober.”

  “When she wrote the note she was cold sober,” Doug said uncertainly.

  “All right,” Beth said briskly. “It isn’t time to start dinner yet, so why don’t we do some gardening? The weeds are thriving.”

  “Weeding it is,” Doug said, sounding grateful. Like a lot of men, when he was disturbed he wanted something to do.

  In comfortable jeans they spent a productive hour outside, weeding, trimming, raking and gathering up the bits of refuse that persistently clutter the best of gardens. By midafternoon they had had enough physical action, and settled in lawn chairs in the back garden. Both became aware at once that the house phone was ringing, but Doug didn’t make it into the house in time to answer. He came back with the portable phone and a note, which he handed to Beth.

  “There was a message on the machine from Pastor Cooper. He’s stuck at the hospital with a sick parishioner and begs off dinner. Says to call him if we want him to stop by later in the evening. That’s his cell phone number.”

  “We do,” Beth said immediately, her eyes meeting Doug’s. “Don’t we?”

  “Yes,” he said, sitting down and handing her the phone. “I think he knows what he’s doing and we don’t—that’s fairly clear. Yes, I think we’d better talk to him, I mean, listen to him.”

  Beth dialed the number and Pastor Cooper answered immediately. “I’m sorry you can’t make it to dinner,” Beth said. “But we certainly understand. A sick parishioner takes precedence. But both Doug and I would like to talk with you later, if you aren’t too tired.”

  “Fine. I’ll be there,” Pastor Cooper said. “It may be late. How late is too late? Would sometime between nine and ten be okay?”

  “Fine,” she said, so it was settled.

  Beth felt a sudden lilting happiness. Nobody was checking in tonight, so she and Doug would have this time to themselves. They would get rid of the sense of strain that had existed between them since the quarrel.

  Pastor Cooper arrived a little after eight. He looked tired, and Beth wondered about the stress of his afternoon. Cyrus had been so strong, but comforting the bereaved, giving hope to the hopeless, trying to encourage the defeated took strength, and she wondered what he had already dealt with today.

  “Why don’t we sit out here?” Doug suggested. “It’s a nice evening. I think in Scotland they call it the ‘gloaming.”’

  “Lovely word,” Pastor Cooper said, sitting down.

  “Did you have dinner?” Beth asked. “I could fix you something.”

  “Nothing, thanks. I picked up a sandwich at the hospital cafeteria. I’m fine.”

  “We probably should let this go until later,” Beth apologized, “but we’re both worried about Kayla. Since it’s late and you’ve already had a full day, I’ll get right to the point. Both Doug and I are confused. Kayla was in the rehab center but left it. She decided to try AA. Now she seems to be reluctant to start that. We don’t know what to make of it.”

  She could sense him focusing in on what she was saying, putting aside that which had engaged him all afternoon.

  “What did Kayla say about it? About going to AA?”

  Doug answered. “Not much to me. I handled it badly, I’m afraid. I quarreled with her, sort of backed her into a corner. Did she talk to you about it, Beth?”

  “A little. She said she had actually called them and talked to a ‘really nice guy’ there. He apparently filled her in on the details. And she said—” Beth paused, wanting to be precise. “What she actually said was that it was all wound up in religion first. Before that, she had said she was not religious. I got the impression that was pretty much carved in stone. Then, about the AA program, she said there was ‘so much to it.’ We have no idea what she means by that.”

  “I do,” Pastor Cooper said thoughtfully. “She’s only half right about the ‘religion.’ The whole program is based on a person accepting that there is a—what can I call it?—higher power. That we are not really in control, but that higher power is. The program itself can be used by people of any faith, or no faith. It can be effective for all. And she said there was ‘so much to it’?”

  “Yes. What could she have meant?”

  “My educated guess is there’s more to it than she realized. Has she been an alcoholic for some time?”

  Doug answered. “Yes. I first realized she was drinking when she was a teenager, so it’s been more than ten years.”

  Pastor Cooper nodded. Beth wished she could see his face more clearly in the dusk. “Then, she’s probably had some hard times,” he said. “Probably done some things she regrets—all people with a substance dependency have. It’s what happens when these people lose control of their lives. They hurt other people.”

  “Well, she’s done that,” Doug said bleakly. “Her mother gave up on her years ago. I…defaulted in my parental responsibilities, I’m ashamed to admit. Kayla was on her own a lot, when she shouldn’t have been. She’s had two failed marriages. That is, her first marriage ended in divorce, and her child, Becky, is now in the father’s custody. Then there was a brief second marriage to Adam’s father. He
died, but from what she’s said, I gather they were both pretty much basket cases. I doubt that marriage would have lasted. It all sounds like a grim litany of failure, which I guess is what it has been….” His voice dwindled away.

  Pastor Cooper was quiet for a moment, then he said slowly, “Without speaking to Kayla herself, I believe, then, the part of the AA program that’s put her off is probably steps eight and nine. It’s a twelve-step program. And the recovering user needs to work his or her way through all twelve steps. One at a time. It takes guts and perseverance and strength. Maybe that’s what frightened her off.”

  “What are steps eight and nine?” Doug asked.

  “To make a list of every person your dependency has harmed. Then make amends to each of these people whenever possible—unless making amends now will injure them or others. It’s a tall order. Do you know of anything in her life so far that she can’t consider going back to? To try to make amends?”

  Beth gave a small gasp. Both men glanced over at her.

  “You’ve thought of something?” Pastor Cooper asked.

  “Yes,” Beth said hesitantly, “but Kayla asked me not to mention it. If I do, I’m breaking confidence.” She paused for a moment, then decided. Kayla’s life really was out of control. Doug was her father. Pastor Cooper was here now, and, busy as he was, she wasn’t sure when they could talk to him again. Doug would probably be annoyed, but…

  “If Kayla is disappointed or angry that I’m breaking confidence, I’ll just have to deal with it. My guess is that it would be her first husband Kayla would be reluctant to—”

  “Frank Hughes?” Doug asked, puzzled.

  “Yes. It was Frank who wanted the divorce. He demanded custody of their little girl. Kayla said he ran out of patience. I gather he had tried to help her but…it hadn’t been successful. Anyway, he got custody of Becky. Kayla says that the court awarded him child support, which Kayla has never paid. Her life was in such a shambles that she couldn’t. I’m afraid that’s the situation she’s avoiding. She owes— I don’t know how much. But that’s the reason she ran away from…wherever she was.” Beth tried to recall exactly what Kayla had said. “She was frantic, desperate. She just took Adam and ran. And I think she said they had ‘found’ her. Apparently there’s an ongoing process to locate noncustodial parents who owe and don’t pay.”